Battle
by routavaurio
Summary: There has been unrest in a small town not too long after Pitch's defeat. Investigating it, the Guardians are faced with an expected enemy with his expected tricks. And they are not about to let him rise back to power just yet.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Rise of the Guardians. English is not my first language, so feel free to point out my mistakes. Also, all kinds of feedback is very much appreciated!**

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Golden strands of dreamsand curled across the night sky. The sand slipped into houses and danced over the heads of sleeping children. The children's dreams turned pleasant and peace settled over the town. But the Sandman wasn't peaceful at all, even though he masked it well with his kind, sleepy smile. Despite the apparent serenity in the wintery town and the woods surrounding it, all was definitely not well. There had been unrest in the area, shadows, nightmares... all things that pointed to a certain shadow under the bed the Guardians had defeated a couple of years ago. The Sandman had been the first to notice it on his nightly rounds, and he had reported to the others as soon as he had been able to. There hadn't been anything too suspicious yet, but the Guardians wouldn't take any chances after the last time. So now they were especially vigilant and patrolled the town as often as their jobs allowed. Luckily, the Sandman could easily combine the vigilance with his job. He was flying high above the town, standing on a cloud of sand and weaving dreams with fantastic skill and precision. It was a great vantage point, especially if he kept his eyes and ears peeled. And he did, and that was why he heard the wind singing to alert him of the approaching winter just a moment before winter called his name.

"Heeeey, Sandy!"

The Sandman turned and waved as the wind whirled around his cloud and brought a grinning Jack Frost to a stop next to him. The skinny, pale boy hovered in front of Sandy and reached out to touch a tendril of dreamsand. Dreams escaped from it, playful golden deer prancing around Jack and then disappearing into the night. Jack laughed, icy blue eyes shining with childish glee. Sandy smiled. He was fond of the young frost child. Jack was always so playful and... well, not quite _happy_, but genuinely cheerful, and it warmed Sandy's heart. Jack watched the glittering dreamsand flowing away and finding its place in the town and then turned back to Sandy.

"I took a closer look at the woods. Nothing there. Have you seen anything?"

Sandy shook his head and then extended a small glowing hand, weaving a little bit more childhood joy into a dream before sending it away. Jack leaned to his crooked, frosty staff, crossing his ankles as if he were standing on a bus stop instead of thin air.

"Are you sure there's something really bad hiding around here? It could be just a stray Nightmare or something."

Sandy shrugged his shoulders and then conjured up a sand image of a small, twisted shadow creature and followed it with a triangle to symbolize caution.

"I guess you're right. Better safe than sorry... Oh, hold on..."

Jack reached into the pocket of his blue hoodie and gently pulled out something that closely resembled a hummingbird. Sandy waved happily at the mini tooth fairy that started fluttering about when Jack released her.

"Okay, we're here, Baby Tooth," Jack said, "The wind _is_ a bit harsh way to travel for someone so small."

Baby Tooth chirped in response.

"Tooth told me to take Baby Tooth with me," Jack explained when Sandy formed a question mark over his head, "If we need back-up, she can signal the others. Tooth's on the field somewhere in India right now, I think."

Sandy nodded and then glanced around. He felt the uneasiness again. The feeling of _wrongness _that couldn't really be explained. It could be that Jack was right, that there was only a stray Nightmare galloping about. But it could also be something worse. It could be Pitch Black clawing his way back to menace the children again. The last couple of years had been peaceful. Almost too peaceful. Maybe Pitch had already recovered enough to try something. Of course, it was unlikely that Pitch would stand a chance against them especially if he was still weak from his defeat. But again, better safe than...

"Sandy! Look!"

Sandy looked where Jack was now pointing. He squinted his golden eyes and saw a small shadow darting into the woods. It could have been just a stray bat, but it wasn't. Sandy knew that. He pointed downwards and Jack nodded in understanding.

"Let's go."

Jack took off, riding the wind towards where the shadow had disappeared into. Sandy followed on his cloud of sand, staying airborne even when Jack's bare feet touched the snowy ground. The shadow was nowhere to be seen, but they stayed alert, looking around. Jack held his staff ready, the crooked end pointed towards the darkness. Sandy prepared some more dreamsand just in case, familiar power warming his hands. Baby Tooth fluttered near Jack's ear. The mini tooth fairy was very fond of the winter child, even more so than her sisters or Toothiana herself. It was quite adorable, actually, in Sandy's opinion. The woods were silent and calm, stray snowflakes were the only movement around them.

"Do you think it went...?"

Jack was cut off when a flash of movement caught their eye again. Sandy held out his hand, letting a trail of glowing sand crawl through the air to light up their surroundings. The light caught the shadow for a moment before it darted out of sight again. Sandy didn't like it. It was like the shadow was leading them somewhere. He conjured up a bunch of images to get this across to young Jack, who just looked confused. Jack had quickly got the hang of Sandy's silent dreamsand charades after they had started talking more, but the boy still didn't always catch everything Sandy wanted to say. The shadow fluttered between the trees. Sandy gave it a frown and formed more sand. He raised a hand as a sign for Jack to stay still and let his cloud bring him just a bit closer. The shadow lingered for a moment longer, and then started to slink back, further away into the woods.

Sandy didn't let it.

Quick as lightning, Sandy lashed his hand forward. Dreamsand formed into a golden whip that wrapped around the shadow, and Sandy dragged it into the moonlight with one swift movement.

Jack looked impressed.

"That is _so_ cool."

The shadow tried to escape the sand's grasp but it only succeeded in writhing pitifully while it was held firmly in place. Sandy looked at it closely and his eyes widened. The shadow was barely larger than Sandy and its shape was vaguely humanoid. Or more like a shrivelled mockery of a human. It squirmed wildly, trying to get away from the moonlight, glaring with soulless, empty eyes. Sandy knew what it was. He hadn't seen them for centuries, though, and he had thought they had all perished already. This was bad.

It was a Fearling.

Jack stepped closer to the creature, flicking a bit of loose snow on it with his toes.

"Sandy... what _is _that thing? It's not a Nightmare, is it?"

Sandy shook his head sadly. Jack wasn't old enough to have heard of Fearlings, and Sandy had hoped the boy wouldn't have needed to ever face them. Sandy created an image of a bunch of children. Then a rough silhouette of Pitch Black. Then he morphed the sand-children into Fearlings. Jack watched the shifting sands over Sandy's head with wide eyes and then glanced at the struggling Fearling. The boy turned even paler than normal and looked slightly sick.

"Pitch... he did _that_?" Jack asked in a weak voice and nodded towards the Fearling, "To kids?"

Sandy nodded and made a picture of a clock going backwards and a calendar showing a random year from the past. It was a long time ago. Then Pitch had realized that corrupting dreams made even more effective minions. At least Nightmares weren't so vulnerable to light. The Fearling in Sandy's grasp struggled harder, trying to get away from the light-emitting sand that burned it. It was small and weak. Sandy almost felt sad for the poor thing. But his pity was shadowed by apprehension. A lonely Fearling wasn't much of an opponent, but Fearlings usually worked in packs. And they worked for Pitch.

This Fearling could be a stray. Then again, it probably wasn't. Sandy tried to quickly get this across while keeping an eye on their surroundings. Jack took a few tentative steps towards their captive that was currently busy screaming an unnerving, hollow scream.

"So does this mean that Pitch is nearby?" Jack asked, grasping his staff again tighter. Fine lines of blue light raced to the tips of the staff from Jack's hand.

Sandy wasn't sure. He sent out more sand to light up the forest even further. The Fearling kept screaming. Baby Tooth stayed close to Jack, chirping nervously and glaring at the Fearling. Jack brought his free hand to pat Baby Tooth's head in what the boy clearly hoped was a calming gesture.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Baby Tooth pointed a tiny finger towards the screaming Fearling. Jack and Sandy turned their attention back to it again. The screaming got louder, and Sandy tugged the whip that held the Fearling captive and scowled threateningly. The Fearling's scream was cut short, at least for a while. Jack looked at Sandy uneasily.

"I think it was trying to call for someone."

Sandy nodded and was about to conjure up some more sand images before he was interrupted. This time it was by a dark, silky voice that spoke from the shadows behind them:

"Yes. Yes it was. And here I am."

Sandy and Jack spun around, weapons ready. There, in the midst of the shadows of the trees, stood a shadow of a man with a sharp-toothed grin.


	2. Chapter 2

**I still don't own RotG.**

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Jack had promised himself to be prepared for this. He had known Pitch would return someday. But he hadn't thought it would happen so soon. They had so utterly destroyed the monster the last time they had clashed. And everything had been so peaceful lately... But there Pitch stood, darkness draped around him as a cloak and sickly grey skin glowing eerily in what little moonlight managed to hit him through the nightly clouds. And there were those... _things_... A lot of them. They were floating in the shadows, thousands of empty eyes watching, thousands of faces twisted into horrible screaming grimaces. Thousands of lost souls. They were terrible, sure, but Jack wasn't afraid of them. He aimed his staff at Pitch, taking comfort in the knowledge that Sandy was right there beside him. He glanced at the small golden man, who gave a meaningful glance at Baby Tooth. Jack agreed silently. It was probably a good time to signal the others, just in case things got ugly.

Jack didn't need to speak for Baby Tooth to understand. The tiny fairy gave him one determined look with her mismatched eyes and was off in a flash of colourful feathers. If Pitch noticed, the man didn't seem to care. The Boogeyman stood in the shadows, hands behind his back as if he had no care in the world. But it had to be an act. Pitch didn't really think he could stand up to them now, did he? New-old allies or not, Pitch still hadn't regained his powers. Jack could see it. There was no trace of black sand around Pitch, there was no oppressive aura that usually radiated from the man. The Boogeyman even stood with a little slouch that he clearly tried to mask. Really, Pitch was a wreck.

"You seem to have acquainted yourself with one of my Fearlings," Pitch said almost amiably, "There's no need to be so hostile, Sanderson. I am not here to fight."

Sandy was giving Pitch what Jack could only describe as the Death Glare. With capitals and a "the". It was amazing how formidable a small man made of golden sand could be. Pitch didn't seem to mind the Glare, though. He _had _to be up to something.

"What do you want, Pitch?" Jack asked and kept his staff firmly aimed between Pitch's eyes.

Pitch smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Jack, look at you," he said and spread his arms, "All grown up to be a full-fledged Guardian. Well, not really grown up, to be fair. You can put your stick down. Like I said, I'm not here to fight."

"You do seem too out of shape for that," Jack retorted and didn't lower his weapon, "And Sandy here kicked you around like nobody's business last time. But still, you've got to be up to _something_."

"You wound me, Jack," Pitch put a shadowy hand to his chest in mock-heartbreak, "I only wish to talk to you."

"You know, you really didn't need to raise and army if you just wanted a chat. You could have just called."

Sandy formed images of children and a monster threatening them and ended with a question mark over his head. It wasn't his usual pleasant, curly question mark. It was jagged and demanding. Pitch sighed.

"And I was so hoping we could get along."

"What do you _want_?" Jack repeated forcefully. He didn't want to play games with Pitch. Something wasn't right. Pitch wasn't this stupid. He wouldn't charge to open confrontation in such a state. His Fearlings didn't seem to be faring much better either. They were small and shrunk away from the lonely moonbeams that managed to make their way to the ground. The only ones that looked a bit more threatening were slightly larger and seemed to be armoured with something that protected them from light. But the Fearlings were numerous, and the thought of an army of them so close to sleeping children was definitely not pleasant.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Pitch smiled again, or more like un-smiled, "Of course, after being so close to recognition and success and a beautiful era of _fear _and then being denied all that at the last second might make a spirit feel... vengeful. But I just might be above that."

Sandy poked Jack's sleeve and then nodded his head back. Jack looked over his shoulder and saw thousands of hollow eyes behind them. Fearlings were surrounding them both, some hovering near the ground and some rising further up to build a wall of shadows.

"Then again..." Pitch was still talking in his smooth, unnervingly calm voice, "I might... not."

The mass of Fearlings exploded. The little shadows swooped down upon Sandy and Jack, and Sandy quickly flung the captive Fearling into the air and out of the way. Sandy formed another sand whip and snapped it through the first volley of shadows. Jack swung his staff and sent a blast of magic at a bunch of Fearlings that tried to flank them. The shadows froze in mid-air and fell, some hitting rocks and shattering. Jack winced at that, but didn't have time to feel sorry. Another wave of Fearlings was already on its way.

Sandy was again moving like a hurricane. The two whips of dreamsand were slicing Fearlings left and right. Sandy's normally so friendly face was a mask of harsh concentration. The Fearlings made tentative attempts at charging at the little man, but seemed to be almost afraid to really get into the action, and Jack could understand why. The Sandman was not someone to be messed with. An especially bold armoured Fearling sprung from the mass of shadows in an attempt to get at Sandy from behind. Sandy spun around at the last second, a sand whip curling around the monster and flinging it into the snow below.

"Nice one!" Jack cheered and bashed another approaching shadow with his staff. Sandy replied with a quick thumbs up before spinning back into action.

The sky was dotted by tiny shadows. The ones not busy attacking the two Guardians seemed to be making their way higher up. Jack didn't think much of it until Sandy signalled him with an exclamation point and pointed upwards. Jack looked up and almost got a face full of Fearling. He yelped in surprise and brought his staff up to block the small, spindly claws of the monster. He threw the Fearling to the side and called the wind to pick him up. Sandy was already on his way, rising steadily higher, golden flashes cleaving through the mass of shadows. Jack was about to follow, but something suddenly hit him in the back, almost sending him back to the ground. Sharp claws dug into his shoulders and Jack shouted in alarm, his free hand instinctively grabbing at whatever now clung to him. His hand met something smooth and he heard a scream when the armoured Fearling fell to the ground, half-covered in frost. Jack didn't stick around to wait for more sneak-attacks; he shot to the sky, breaking through a wall of Fearlings and following the dot of golden light that was Sandy. The little man was speeding after a large stream of Fearlings that tumbled uncontrollably across the sky, all headed towards...

Jack's eyes widened.

The stream of Fearlings was headed towards the town. Towards the sleeping children.

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**Author's Note: I have just made the observation that being sick is NOT FUN! Even when this is just a random flu, all I can do is cough up my insides and feel stupid. Oh, well. The best cure is drinking a lot of tea and baking cupcakes! Okay, the cupcakes are for Valentine's Day, but whatever. See? I'm even writing stupid things.**

**Something smarter now... Um, Jack is kinda clueless about what Fearlings are because Pitch's minions in the film were Nightmares, ****_not_**** Fearlings. Two very different things. I might have done some changes on how the Fearlings work from the books because 1. the film is very different from the books anyway and I mostly consider them separate entities and 2. I don't have the books anymore so I can't check all the details and of course 3. It's fanfiction. It's not canon.**

**This wasn't supposed to be a long story! Well, it still isn't going to be, but it is going to be longer than I thought. It should be four chapters at most, however. This whole story started because I wanted to try writing a sort of lengthy action scene without much of a plot. And it still is just that so... comments?**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own RotG.**

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"Oh, no you don't!" Jack let his magic flow freely, causing the lazy snowfall to turn into the beginnings of a blizzard. A nearly blinding flash of blue light shot from his shepherd's crook, hitting a bunch of Fearlings that withered away with a screech. Sandy glanced over his shoulder and smiled quickly. There was no time for further communication. Sandy spun dreams as quickly as he could. Dinosaurs, birds, dolphins, bears... all charging at the Fearlings and making them diminish under the power of sheer happiness. The Fearlings' advance was utterly stopped by a large dreamsand whale that formed over the town, a giant protector from beneath the dream waves. And while the golden barrage of dreams pelted the Fearlings, Jack focused on turning the weather itself against the monsters. Heavy, stinging snowfall assaulted them, forcing them down from the sky. The monsters might have been numerous, but they wouldn't stand a chance against dreams and winter. Jack followed the falling shadows, shooting sharp icicles at them and pinning them to the snow. Sandy could take care of the sky; Jack would secure the ground.

"Most impressive, Jack."

Jack halted in mid-air. Pitch's voice was surprisingly close. It came from the midst of the blizzard, and Jack looked around sharply, trying to pinpoint the Boogeyman's location. The visibility was getting closer to zero near the ground, but it didn't bother Jack nearly as much as it would his enemies. The blizzard was _his_ ally. He lowered himself cautiously to the ground. His feet touched the snow and those of the nearby Fearlings that were still up immediately sprung at him. The first to get too close got a frozen snowball in the face and the next two were trapped into cocoons of ice. The others were somewhere behind the stinging curtains of snow, fumbling uselessly towards him. Jack stood prepared, knees bent, glowing staff firmly in his hands.

"C'mon, Pitch," Jack said with a smirk, "You don't actually think you can win this?"

He was mostly talking to make Pitch respond. Pitch may be hiding in the shadows, but Pitch also loved to talk. He would give himself away sooner or later.

And he did.

"Maybe," Pitch's voice said somewhere very close to Jack, "But maybe this isn't about winning."

"What?" Jack turned around to look at the shadow of a tree that had talked, "What do you mean?"

Pitch's grin appeared from the shadows before Pitch did. The man emerged from the dark, hands still behind his back.

"This is more about survival," Pitch said and took another step but stopped when Jack fired a warning shot of ice right next to his head, "Now, that's not very nice."

"The next one will be even less so," Jack almost hissed and aimed the staff at the Boogeyman's chest.

Pitch raised his hands defensively, and Jack was taken aback. Pitch's hands had been shrouded in darkness the last time he had seen him. But now his other hand was pale, with only a slight grey tint as a reminder of what it had been. It looked almost... human. Pitch noticed Jack's stare and quickly hid his hands again.

"You're _really _not doing so good," Jack commented.

"No," Pitch sighed dramatically, "And you don't seem to even give me a chance to get better. Almost reminds me of the old times... Speaking of which, how were your memories, Jack? Did you enjoy seeing who you used to be?"

"Very much," Jack said firmly. Whatever Pitch was planning, he wouldn't get any ammunition from Jack's memories. Sure, Jack might have developed a tiny little fear of drowning out of them, but there was no water in sight here. Except in solid form.

"I would assume so," Pitch said in a tone that was almost gentle, "After all those years... centuries... Tell me, did you have a family, Jack?"

Jack didn't answer. He didn't need to go along with Pitch's little mind games. He didn't want to. Hell, there was no reason not to just freeze the guy solid and leave it at that. So why hadn't he done that already? Was it because Pitch seemed so beaten already? Was it because the whole attack felt desperate and pitiful? Or was it because of the hand? Because it was proof that even Pitch _had _been someone. They had all been someone before.

"Sometimes... I remember mine."

Pitch's voice almost broke, and Jack lowered his staff just a bit.

"I told you I know what it feels like," Pitch went on, staring at the snowy ground with... regret?

But it had to be a trick. No matter how _genuine _Pitch was sounding right now, there had to be something behind it.

"Did you have a mother? A father?" Pitch asked, "Do you remember what it was like? You can tell me."

"If this is again about joining you or something, then forget it," Jack said and wished his voice hadn't sounded so strangely thick, "Don't even bother."

Pitch smiled sadly.

"Can't blame a man for trying one more time, can you? But I suppose you wouldn't even need understanding from someone like me, now that you have the Guardians, am I right?"

"Spot on," Jack deadpanned, "You know, out of all the de-motivational speeches you've made, this is the least effective."

"I know," Pitch looked at his almost human hand, "As you said, I'm not doing so good. I'm only here because I _need _a bit more fear to get back on my feet."

He glanced up bitterly.

"But you Guardians can't give me even that, can you?"

Wow. That was almost funny in a pathetic way. How could even someone like Pitch think he could garner pity from the Guardians of _Childhood _after just ordering his mooks to attack _children_? Sure, Jack did pity Pitch a little. He knew from personal experience that being forgotten and alone was a horrible fate. But if the Boogeyman wanted attention, this was definitely the wrong way to go.

"I'm just doing what I can to survive," Pitch went on, stepping backwards into the shadows and disappearing. Jack fired ice after him out of reflex and then cursed himself for letting the man just walk away. He shouldn't have indulged the monster in pointless talk to begin with, no matter how pitiful Pitch seemed. He scanned the shadows, not moving too close to the darkest patches on the ground. A couple of Fearlings finally broke through the blizzard and scampered for a half-hearted attack. Jack froze them effortlessly, and kept looking. Pitch couldn't be that far away yet.

A hand touched Jack's shoulder and Jack jerked away. He spun around and hit Pitch in the side with his shepherd's crook. Curling trails of frost bloomed along the folds of Pitch's cloak, and the man watched it with strange fascination.

"Just get lost, Pitch," Jack sighed, tired of the Boogeyman's game, "Or at least put up a fight. This is getting boring."

Pitch's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Fine."

Then something jumped at Jack from beneath the snow – the snow that was supposed to be his ally. It was one of the armoured Fearlings, larger than most, and it collided with Jack's small body with such abruptness that Jack was knocked onto his back. The snow cushioned his fall a bit, but there was hard ground hiding underneath, and Jack's head hit it with enough force to send his mind reeling. His vision blackened for a second and when it came back, he realized with dismay that the hand that should be holding his staff was grasping only empty air. The Fearling was upon him, screaming horribly, claws groping at his throat. It was definitely stronger than it looked, and when Jack gripped at its arms and tried to wrench himself free, the monster didn't even seem to notice. Strange, oppressive feeling of emptiness crept into Jack, like depression in a more tangible form. Jack didn't know exactly how the Fearlings worked, but whatever this one was doing, he didn't like it. He struggled wildly, kicking and trying to jostle the Fearling off. The creature held fast, claws finally finding his throat and squeezing. Jack drew in a panicked breath and practically spat it out before his airways closed, making sure to put in as much magic as he could without his staff. Jack's breath froze the Fearling's upper body and Jack kicked it off violently, rolling onto his side and gasping for air.

He couldn't rest now. He was surrounded, and without his weapon. Jack scrambled to hands and knees, taking another deep breath before trying to get his bearings back. A strip of darkness lashed at him, catching him across the face. Jack gasped in sudden pain and then yelped when a hand was harshly tangled into his hair and he was violently dragged to his feet. Pitch's yellow eyes gleamed maliciously and he grinned like a predator who had just caught helpless prey.

Except this prey wasn't quite helpless. Jack planted his foot firmly into Pitch's solar plexus, feeling some satisfaction for the wheezing cry that escaped the Boogeyman. Jack's hair was released, and he stumbled back, looking around for his staff. He spotted it a few feet away in on the snow, dull and lifeless. He made a dash for it, only to be blocked by a large Fearling coated in lead. The monster swiped at him and Jack ducked, knees bending and hands curling into fists. Like a coiled spring, he darted back up, bringing up his fist and letting it crash into the Fearling's head. There was a crack that came from splintering ice and the Fearling stumbled backwards, keeling over into a heap of shadow. Jack shook his hand, the remains of the ice he had coated his fist with falling onto the ground. He nimbly sidestepped another Fearling that jumped at him and then crouched down to reach for his staff.

He almost managed to grab it before a vicious kick to the small of his back sent him onto his stomach. A hand gripped his right ankle and dragged him away from his precious weapon.

"Hey, that's not fair!" he shouted, digging his hands into the snow and forming the substance into a ball. He twisted his body, caught sight of Pitch's sneer and chucked the snowball at it as hard as he could.

He missed. But the effort was enough to make Pitch's smile disappear. The man's face darkened, and for some reason that unnerved Jack more than the disturbing Cheshire Cat grin Pitch had sported before.

"Fair?" Pitch asked in an almost gentle, hushed voice, "Why did you think it would be _fair_?"

The strike was quick and accurate. Jack felt paralysing pain blossoming somewhere above his right knee, and Pitch let go of his ankle. Jack dragged himself away from the man, alarmed at the realization that his right leg wasn't working. He grabbed another handful of snow. It wasn't much of a weapon, but at least it made him feel a bit less defenceless. Pitch was advancing and, despite his haggard appearance he now had the confidence of a man who had fought countless of battles and _won_.

And suddenly Jack felt very small and very vulnerable.

"Sandy?" he shouted, even though he knew the little man was too far away, "A little help?"

There was no response. Only the screams of Fearlings and the howl of the blizzard. And the foot of Pitch that came out of nowhere and kicked Jack in the temple. His vision blackened again.

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**Author's Note: Action scenes are... interesting to write. I try to find a balance between cool and practical, and to use a lot of variation in them. Most action scenes especially in visual media make me slap my forehead for the stupidity of the fighters. I'm not saying I could write them better (because I really can't) and I know they're supposed to look nice instead of realistic but... Meh, whatever. I don't know, I hope this chapter is at least not too boring?**

**Oh, at least I wrote two out of... a few things that made me want to write a RotG action piece without a proper plot. 1. Jack punching someone and 2. Jack using his breath as a weapon. The latter one was because I've always imagined the spirit(s) of winter spreading cold and snow by just going places and breathing out really cold air.**

**Pitch's human-like hand is a reference to the books, especially book two, where Pitch tries to corrupt Nightlight and instead gets his hand humanized for it because Nightlight is, well, light and thus embodies Pitch's special weakness.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Still don't own. Still like feedback.**

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Baby Tooth had been serious when she had said it was urgent. Nicholas St. North saw the black mass flying towards the town as soon as the lights of his snowglobe-portal faded from his field of vision. North quickly steered his reindeer to land, heading towards the largest bunch of shadows near the ground. The freshly polished sleigh landed with a crunch of snow and North leapt out, drawing his large sabres and immediately slashing a shadow that leaped at him.

"She was right!" Toothiana gasped, coming to a stop near North, "Fearlings! An army of them!"

The ground next to them shifted as a hole formed there, spitting out a grey seven-foot bunny. Bunnymund had already drawn his two boomerangs and was in a fighting stance even before his tunnel closed. One of Toothiana's mini-selves zipped from the closing tunnel right behind Bunnymund and quickly joined her sisters around Toothiana.

"Crikey! Wouldn't've thought Pitch would be back this quick," Bunnymund commented and tossed a boomerang at a Fearling. The monster was sliced in half by the weapon, "Better get right to work, eh?"

"Indeed," North agreed, "Tooth, you try to find Sandy and Jack from sky! Bunny and I will take care of ground!"

Toothiana nodded her birdlike head, colourful feathers bouncing up and down.

"Right! On it! Girls?"

Her mini-fairies chirped in unison, and Toothiana sped away, her wings just a blur of pink. She shot upwards, and more tiny versions of her parted from her feathery body to fight the onslaught of Fearlings on the way. The tiny fairies ripped through the shadows, leaving behind only traces of darkness and screams.

North and Bunny were moving by the time Toothiana had disappeared behind the curtains of darkness in the sky. Bunny caught his previously tossed boomerang while running and threw it right back again, following up with an egg-bomb. It exploded in a cloud of pastel smoke and Bunny jumped right through it to deliver a kick at an approaching shadow. North sliced Fearlings left and right, charging through their ranks with deadly resolve. At the moment, he was not the nice and jolly Father Christmas. None of the Guardians were nice or jolly at the moment. There were children in danger, and they were going to protect them. A particularly large Fearling charged back at North, swiping at him with sharp fingers. North ducked and plunged both blades into the monster, breaking through lead and darkness and fear. North yanked his sabres free and spun to slice an end to another Fearling's attempted sneak-attack. Then he was running again.

The weather was getting harsher by the minute. Angry snowflakes were stinging North's face, but that was nothing compared to some days back at the Pole, or especially some of the worst days back when he had still been wandering around Russia with his bandit group. In fact, this time North _knew _the blizzard was on their side. It had to be Jack's doing. The boy was expertly keeping it from hitting the town with too much force, and it was effectively bringing flying Fearlings to the ground and slowing the advance of the downed ones to a crawl. North would have to give the boy a pat on the back for that one.

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Toothiana was not very thrilled by the blizzard. Well, that wasn't very fair, actually. She knew it was on their side, but that didn't change the fact that flying in it was a pain. At least Sandy would be easy to find. The little dream weaver was glowing a bright golden light that was easy to see even through a curtain of snow and shadows. Toothiana pressed her arms tightly to her sides, taxing her wings to propel her through the air like an arrow that tore through Fearlings. Their screams rang in her ears, and she had to once again wonder how Pitch had managed to dig up so many of these monsters in such a short time. She had thought the Fearlings were destroyed centuries ago. But then again, so had they thought of Pitch too before he had suddenly returned a couple of years ago. They really shouldn't take anything for granted these days.

Toothiana winced as one of her little fairies got smacked down by a wild shadow. It was more vicious than most, and it was quick to plough through a whole bunch of her fairies. Toothiana clenched her teeth and quickly drew two elegantly curved blades from the belt at her waist. The familiar weight of the swords felt both reassuring and saddening. It had been a long time since she had really had to use them, but she had hoped that time would be even longer.

The Fearling lashed out with its abnormally long claws and Toothiana zipped between them, spinning past the deadly strokes and slashing with precision and skill she had never forgotten. Her swords found the creature's shadowy body and sliced across it quickly, and it exploded into wisps of darkness with a pitiful cry. Then Sandy's dreams reached her, golden stingrays greeting her with their glow.

"Sandy!" Toothiana shouted, speeding up and darting through the final ranks of the Fearlings to the little man.

Sandy waved his hand and almost casually lashed at a Fearling that got too close. Everything seemed to be fine up there – save for the fact that they were in a fight against thousands of Fearlings. The most powerful of Sandy's dreams hovered above the town, keeping the sleeping children safe. Toothiana looked at the peaceful houses past the snowfall and was reassured that – wait, there was an uncollected molar in the southernmost house! – that the monsters weren't even getting close.

"Great work, Sandy!" Toothiana complimented. She more sensed than saw the Fearling that was swiping at her wings and quickly dodged, not even having time to do more before her fairies swarmed the monster in defence of their queen, "Is Jack here too?"

Sandy nodded and pointed downwards.

* * *

Bunnymund jumped high over a charging shadow and threw one, two bombs before landing back into the snow. His boomerangs were again out of his hands, but they would soon be back – and most likely bring down a few more Fearlings on the way. Bunnymund saw North at his right, moving so quickly it should have been physically impossible for someone so old and large. But of course, North wasn't really _old_. When one was a spirit, age had little meaning. With North doing fine on his own – not that Bunnymund had doubted it – Bunnymund could focus on locating Pitch. The Boogeyman could be somewhere up in the sky, of course, but Bunnymund had a feeling Pitch wouldn't be quite that strong yet. It had been less than three years after Pitch's downfall, and raising this large an army of Fearlings would have taken toll on what little power Pitch had managed to regain. Bunnymund would strike fast at the leader of the army and end it before it got too bad. He had seen flashes of gold closer to the town, and knew Sandy was there protecting the ankle biters. With Toothiana and possibly Frostbite there with Sandy, the sky would be more than okay for a good while, Bunnymund was sure. If he could just find Pitch and take him down now they could all call it a day and go home before the ankle biters woke up and started wondering about the freak blizzard and the flashes of gold.

"Pitch!" Bunnymund heard North roar over the howling winds, probably thinking along the same lines as Bunnymund, "Show yourself!"

There was no answer, save for a group of Fearlings that jumped from the shadows. North sidestepped two and slashed three into oblivion before they hit the ground. The two remaining ones valiantly tried to attack again, but North didn't even look at them as he countered their efforts.

Bunnymund caught his boomerangs and sniffed the air. The cold made his nose tingle unpleasantly. Really, with the sting of snow in his sensitive ears and the cold ground that numbed his paws, the whole place was unpleasant. Bunnymund did _not _like being cold. All the more reason to end this quickly.

But Pitch was nearby. Hidden somewhere behind the poor visibility. It didn't take long for Bunnymund to catch the shadow-lurker's distinct scent of wrongness.

"This way!" Bunnymund informed North and elbowed a stray Fearling out of the way. He hopped quickly towards the darkest shadows with North in tow.

They didn't have to go far until they were close enough so that a very worrying cry of pain actually carried into their ears over the blizzard. Bunnymund froze for a horrifying second and glanced at North, whose blue eyes had widened.

"Jack?" North asked, and Bunnymund only nodded wordlessly before he was on the move, ploughing through the snow. Behind him, North followed without question.

* * *

**Author's Note: What? This thing kind of swelled into a 5-chapter-long monstrosity. I'm not saying that it's long in general, but it is long for a relatively plotless story that was supposed to be like 3 chapters at most! Gah! But I wanted to give the rest of the Guardians a bit more screentime (Or pagetime? Wordtime?) as well. So here we are.**

**I don't know if Toothiana's mini fairies work in the filmverse the same way as they do in the books, but I made them kind of work the same way here just because I think it's really cool. I also gave Tooth the swords she has in the books because again: cool. Writing Bunnymund was haaaaaaaard because I really don't know much Australian dialect so I kind of kept his dialogue to a minimum. Also, in the books Bunnymund is hands down my favourite character at least so far, and I was sort of tempted to write him more like in the books but then everyone would be like "Wut?" because Book!Bunnymund is one ****_weird _****bunny.**

**Also, I can't write accents, so I won't even try.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own RotG. This chapter contains ambiguous and mild book spoilers.**

* * *

Pitch watched Frost crumble to the ground and go still. It was a very satisfying sight, but it didn't do much for his sour mood. He had known trying to prey on children's dreams so soon had been risky, but he hadn't expected the Guardians to retaliate so quickly and so fiercely. Pitch frowned at himself in disappointment. He hadn't had much of a choice, really. He had gotten so weak that he really needed a bit of fear just to keep himself functioning. Even controlling his nightmare sand had become a very taxing effort and shaping it into anything specific was out of the question. Even moving through the shadows wasn't as effortless as he would have liked. Basically, Pitch was starving to... well not exactly to death, but at least to a very bad state.

The accursed blizzard was still roaring in full power. Pitch had hoped that knocking out its creator would have at least toned it down a bit. But no, it seemed that weather phenomena only needed a single kickstart to rage for hours. The snow had by now covered the forest with a heavy layer that only trees and a few large, jagged boulders could break through. Pitch stepped closer to the pesky winter brat and knelt down beside him. This... this _boy _had ruined all his plans. Without him, the Guardians would have failed that one Easter. It should have been Pitch's triumph, and Pitch would now have his kingdom of nightmares. But then little Jack Frost had decided to _have fun _and _laugh_ at the face of danger. Had Pitch been a little bit stronger he would have made the kid pay. He would have made all of the Guardians pay. Very dearly.

Well, now he had a chance to extract at least a little bit of revenge. Pitch's powers might have been nearly gone, but he still had his physical strength and skills born from centuries of fighting. And nothing could take away his skill to scheme and talk his opponents at least into some serious self-doubt. And, Pitch thought with cruel satisfaction, Frost was not only insecure to begin with, but also severely de-powered without his staff to channel his powers with. Too bad the staff the boy was so connected to seemed to be lost under the snow for now. If Pitch had known where Frost's stick was, he would have wasted no time snapping it into thousands of little pieces and watching the boy scream and writhe in what most likely went far beyond just physical agony. It would have been a well-deserved punishment for the three-hundred-year-old child without a parent to keep him in line.

Pitch gripped the frosty collar of the child's hoodie and lifted the boy's upper body up from the snow. The kid was basically weightless. Pitch's still shadowy free hand brushed a few loose strands of white hair from the boy's face, and the boy unconsciously shied away from the touch. A few sparks of corruption danced on the winter child's skin before they faded without doing more than causing some clear discomfort. If Pitch hadn't been so weak, he would have gladly corrupted the child. Jack Frost would make a good Fearling Prince. And at the same time, it would be an excellent revenge against the rest of the Guardians. He would take their youngest, make their precious little frost child work for him. But for now, he would have to settle for just causing a bit of fear and pain.

Frost's head lolled limply to the side, and Pitch was quick to backhand the boy across the face. Frost's eyes snapped open and he gasped in surprise and pain, disoriented for a moment before he really registered the situation... and promptly punched Pitch in the face. The boy's fist was small and he couldn't really back the punch up with much force from his current position. But it had been surprising, and it _stung. _Pitch's head snapped back and he acted mostly on instinct when he flung the nearly weightless boy at the nearest jagged rock. Frost let out a cry of pain and Pitch could hear something crack. He sincerely hoped it was Frost's spine. But alas, the boy was getting up regrettably quickly. At least the kid was coughing and clutching his side. Maybe he had knocked the wind out of the kid. That was something.

"Well, aren't you persistent," Pitch hissed, "You always were. Annoyingly so."

"Thanks, I try," Frost managed to say, "I could say the same about you."

"And I could say that you don't look so good."

Despite the situation, Frost laughed. Of course he did. Pitch stepped threateningly towards the winter brat, who stood his ground and ignored his injuries, cold blue eyes bravely meeting Pitch's darkened gaze.

"But this little game has gone on long enough. Put this storm down, Jack."

Frost actually had the guts to crack an infuriatingly spiteful smile.  
"No."

Pitch would have been more furious had he not already known his whole plan was pretty much ruined. That it had been ruined for a good while already. He knew his Fearlings wouldn't get past Sanderson's dreams, blizzard or no. Really, he should just cut his losses and retreat back underground. But not without putting one meddling Jack Frost in his place.

He took another step forward. Frost backed away, still dragging his right leg.

Then there was an explosion of bright green at Pitch's right, and an exasperatingly familiar Australian accent demanded him to stay right where he was. Well wasn't that just _great_. What else could go wrong? Frost smirked at him and then looked over Pitch's shoulder and waved.

"Good timing, guys!" the boy said and glanced to his left. Probably towards where his staff had been flung. Oh, no. Pitch wouldn't let things get so badly out of hand. Not as long as Frost was still within arm's length. Pitch heard snow crunch heavily behind him. He could identify the two beings behind him as the bandit and the bunny even without looking. It would take only a second until two very sharp sabres would be poking his back. And Pitch used that second to lash out and grab Frost's skinny arm and yank the surprised boy towards him. He spun around, pressing the squirming winter child firmly between himself and the approaching Guardians.

The startled look on their faces was almost worth all the humiliation he had already had to endure.

* * *

This wasn't good at all. They should have been quicker. They shouldn't have given Pitch any warnings. But they had, and now Jack was in trouble because of that. Pitch had sunk low enough to be hiding behind a hostage. One that was – at least in theory – a child, no less. North tightened his hold on his weapons, anger flaring inside him. Next to him, Bunnymund prepared to pounce, almost shaking with barely contained rage.

"Let him go," North said in a dangerously low voice, "_Now_."

Pitch looked like he was considering the offer, tilting his head to the side and not seeming to notice Jack's determined kicks that were aimed at Pitch's legs.

"Hmm... I see no reason to do that," Pitch said, "Why don't _you_ let go of your weapons first."

North really didn't want to do that. But what choice did he have? Letting Jack get hurt definitely wasn't an option. He glanced at Bunnymund, who very clearly wanted to tear Pitch into shreds. North couldn't blame the Pooka; he himself wanted to do the same. But now, they could only lower their weapons reluctantly to the ground.

"Thank you," Pitch said amiably, taking a moment to wrap his arm tightly around Jack's neck, "Now, I'm going to be fair with you because we are all in a bit of trouble. How about a very simple trade?"

"How about this?" Bunnymund growled, "Let him go, and ya might walk away in one piece."

"As eloquent as always, Bunnymund," Pitch smirked, "Try to mind your manners. Otherwise little Frost here might get hurt."

The sky was slowly clearing of shadows, but North's heart was being clouded with worry with each second. Jack was still fighting, kicking and trying to pry Pitch's arm off, even frosting Pitch's arm to no avail. Jack was clearly afraid, North realized. Not being able to breathe was something Jack did not like at all. Jack had never looked as vulnerable as he did now, eyes wide with near panic. North could see dark bruises and scratches on Jack's face, and his anger flared again. He wanted to pick up his blades and drive Pitch back to his lair beaten and broken this very instant, but he couldn't. The remaining Fearlings slowly reached them, gathering around Pitch as bodyguards.

Bunny growled again, glaring at Pitch with utmost hatred. The blurry skies were almost empty of shadows, and North could see Sandy's golden glow approaching somewhere above them. Toothiana and her army were also there, iridescent dots among the winds, and North could only hope they would come up with a plan to get out of this deadlock. Pitch followed North's gaze and his grin widened.

"You two might want to come down as well!" he shouted, and North cursed silently, "The whole group, all together."

It took a moment for the two to get a hold of the situation.

"Jack!" Toothiana gasped when she spotted the captive winter spirit, "Pitch! Let him go, you monster!"

She and Sandy slowly and reluctantly lowered themselves closer to the ground, next to North and Bunnymund. Sandy's dreamsand had dissipated, leaving only Sandy's small round body floating above the snow. Toothiana's fairies fluttered around her, their numbers significantly lower than a moment ago. Her slim swords thudded into the snow. Pitch smiled in satisfaction.

"So sweet," Pitch murmured, "You keep boasting how you are not afraid of me. But right now, I am almost powerless, and yet you are all so _terrified_."

Pitch was right. Of course he was. When it came to fear, Pitch knew everything. The Guardians really were terrified. There were children in danger, and they could do nothing about it without endangering yet another child. Their child. Well, in reality, Jack wasn't anyone's child. Or at least he hadn't been until now. But Jack certainly wanted to be. Despite the boy's free spirit, there was a clear longing for someone to rely on. North had seen it, and he had tried his best to be one. But now he felt powerless to help Jack when the boy needed him.

"What is it you want?" North asked, even though he knew the answer.

"I want you to leave me be for a while," Pitch said calmly, "You wouldn't be cruel enough to actually let me starve to death, would you?"

"We can't let you hurt the children," Toothiana said coldly. Her hands were clenched into fists, and the look in her eyes was absolutely chilling.

Pitch shrugged.

"Fair enough, then I will just keep this one."

"W-wait, what?" Jack choked out, yanking Pitch's arm enough to draw breath, "In your dreams!"

Pitch's only response was to tighten his grip and drag Jack upwards until the boy's toes barely touched the ground. North winced. It was all so uncomfortably familiar. Pitch had tried this before. A father without a child seeking out a child without a father.

"Wait!" North tried, but Pitch silenced him with a raised hand.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" he asked in a disturbingly silky voice, "To have your child taken. To be powerless to stop it."

Yes. It was their fear. Their greatest fear at this very moment. And North remembered how it had once been Pitch's fear as well.

"You should know," North said quietly. It was almost cruel, but if it helped save the situation...

There was a spark of something in Pitch's eyes. Remorse? Sorrow? Pain? All of them? Maybe. It was something that the Boogeyman probably had thought vanquished. Just as the Guardians had thought of Pitch. Pitch's uncertainty was there for only a short moment, but it was enough of a distraction.

"_Now, girls_!" Toothiana shouted, and dozens of mini fairies charged from her side and even from behind the circle of Fearlings, tearing through their already diminished ranks.

"What?" Pitch looked over his shoulder and then back just in time to get Jack's elbow in the stomach. Pitch dropped the boy, who landed onto the snow and lay there, coughing harshly. Sandy and Bunny were moving in a flash. Bunny tossed exploding eggs at the Fearlings who tried to swarm the downed frost child, and Sandy wrapped a tendril of sand around the boy and pulled him away from danger. Relieved to have their youngest safe, North picked up his blades and charged at Pitch. The Boogeyman jumped backwards out of the way of North's first swipe, but that was all the monster could do before a flash of brightly coloured feathers struck him. Toothiana slammed Pitch against a tree, her elbow digging into the man's throat.

"Get. Out. _Now_," Toothiana hissed venomously through gritted teeth. Pitch's eyes widened and he tried to squirm away, but Toothiana was having none of that. She lifted Pitch by the shadowy collar almost effortlessly and tossed him against another tree before letting him fall to the ground.

It was moments like these when North was reminded of the scarier side of the sweet, gentle Tooth Fairy. And at those times he remembered to never _really _anger her under any circumstances.

Pitch scrambled backwards from the advancing Toothiana and then melted into the shadows, finally admitting defeat. The remaining Fearlings followed their master, retreating into the darkness, most likely ending up somewhere underground. One of the Fearlings was a bit slower than others, and it seemed to be dragging something through the snow. North didn't quite see what it was, but he got his answer when a cool breeze rushed past him and an icy snowball slammed against the Fearling's head with enough force to knock it down.

"I'll take that, thank you!" Jack said and limped to the Fearling. The boy crouched down and when he got back up, he was holding his staff protectively against his chest, visibly relieved with the knowledge that it was okay. North quickly rushed at the child's side, placing a large hand on Jack's bony shoulder. He ignored the chill that came from being so close to Jack and half hugged, half supported the stumbling boy.

"Jack, you okay?"

Jack looked up, a tired smile making its way to his bruised face. He coughed, holding his throat, but managed to speak almost nonchalantly:

"Me? Yeah. Sorry I worried you guys. Pitch took me by surprise."

Toothiana flew over to them. After Pitch had escaped she had instantly reverted back to her normal, motherly self.

"Oh, Jack, look at you!" she gasped, her delicate hands gently cupping Jack's face, "Your face is covered in bruises! And what happened to your side? Does it hurt a lot? And your knee? Is something broken? Is-"

"I'm fine, Tooth. And no, he didn't punch out any teeth, so don't panic."

Toothiana looked relieved – although she did check the boy's teeth anyway, just in case.

"Pitch probably retreated underground," Bunny said while hopping over, "I can check some tunnels just in case he's still nearby."

"Good idea," North nodded, "We stay vigilant. Sandy can still keep patrolling, no?"

Sandy nodded, floating above them and illuminating their group with his golden light.

"And my fairies can, too," Toothiana added, "The town is safe now, right Sandy?"

Sandy gave them a thumbs-up. He then added an image of watchful eyes and a couple of sleeping children. Sandy would watch over the town for a moment longer before his duties would take him elsewhere.

"I can stay too," Jack offered, "Sandy needs to move on soon anyway."

"You? No way," Bunny snorted, "Ya're not going to be any help with that limp."

"You know I don't really need my legs when I can fly, _mommy_," Jack smirked at Bunny's very indignant expression, "I'll be fine. You just stick to your tunnels."

North wasn't really okay with the idea at all.

"Bunny is right, Jack," he said, "You come with me to Pole. Get those injuries looked at."

"But I..." Jack tried but stopped when North gave him a very stern look. The boy seemingly deflated and managed to look even tinier than usual, "Fine."

"Good, is settled then!" North clapped his hands, "Great work, everyone! I see you all tomorrow for report."

Bunnymund disappeared into a tunnel, and Sandy lifted himself higher up. He conjured up his dreamsand cloud and some of it was ripped momentarily apart by the still raging storm.

"Oh, right," Jack said and waved his staff to a seemingly random direction, "Sorry about that."

The blizzard slowly settled into a gentler snowfall to give Sandy a better view and to let him move around more freely. Jack let out a weary sigh and swung his staff over his shoulder. It was time to go. The wind picked the boy up, and he floated by North's side as North trudged through the snow back to the sleigh. Toothiana accompanied them all the way there, chattering worriedly and letting Baby Tooth say proper goodbyes to Jack. But then her duties forced her to go her own ways. North knew they would see her tomorrow, probably more stressed out than usual, but otherwise all right. North climbed into the sleigh, and the wind dropped Jack into the back seat. The boy curled up into one of the corners and was still. It made North a little worried. Jack Frost was never still for more than a few seconds at a time. Was Jack hurt worse than he looked? Or was there something on his mind?

"Jack?" North asked, "What is wrong?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders.  
"Nothing. Just thinking."

North fished out a snowglobe from his pocket and grabbed the reins with his other hand. The reindeer were restless, itching to get off the ground already.

"About what?"

"We were all someone before," Jack looked almost uncomfortable saying it, "Who was Pitch?"

North didn't answer right away. He turned the snowglobe idly in his free hand; it was already set to transport them to the North Pole.

"I didn't know him," North said finally, "He is very old. But I tell you what I know. Later."

Jack nodded wordlessly. North spurred the reindeer to full gallop and they were soon treading air. Then North tossed the snowglobe and the sleigh soared through it and appeared in the sky much farther north. Somewhere between that and actually landing back into the hangar of North's workshop, Jack Frost had fallen asleep. As they landed, North found himself thinking about family and lamenting lost children without fathers. And fathers without children.

* * *

**Author's Note: The book spoilers are ambiguous because I kind of only wanted to imply some things rather than spelling them out. Also, weak ending is... an ending. I don't know. I had to get it finished somehow. Meh.**

**In the film, I felt like Pitch's motivation and backstory were kind of weak. And that was before I read the books and realized the dude actually had a much more interesting backstory there. It's not super original or anything but it works and I really like how it explains his behaviour and motives for some things - such as his repeated attempts at getting a child or a childlike character to his side... Pitch just wants to be a daddy.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and favs! It has been really nice getting them.**


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